Tree Talk
by paigeturner11
Summary: Ron and Hermione escape the Burrow for a day, to a place where Ron thinks they can find some well-deserved privacy and have a proper talk. Questions are answered and feelings are seen for their true depth. Read and review, review, review please! :
1. Chapter 1

**So here it is, my second ever fanfiction! I have no ideas for future plots, so suggestions are always welcome. I'll have a go at writing anything you would like to see. Thank you all so much for your reviews on my first fanfic, keep them coming and I'd love to hear what you think of this one :) If you haven't read my 'Harry Potter Missing Moments', go check it out!**

**Again, obviously, I don't own any of the characters - they are all the genius of JK Rowling.**

Tree Talk

Ron had woken her early that morning, before the sunlight crept over the horizon and worked its way up the hill to the Burrow. She hadn't noticed how he snuck out of bed an hour earlier to throw some food in a hamper and sling a rug over the back of a chair near the door so he would remember it. The bed had gone cold beside her and she had slept on without noticing. Ever since she had been reunited with her parents, she had made her visits to the Burrow frequent, stopping by twice a week, sometimes alone, sometimes with her mother and father. It was amazing really, how quickly they had warmed to Ron, Harry and the other Weasleys. Hermione had begun to stay over on these occasions, waving her parents goodbye from the doorstep and then retreating up to Ron's room with him. With Ron's family sleeping only a few doors or stairwells away, neither had felt comfortable with more than a few stolen kisses and falling soundly asleep in each other's arms – but that was ok.

After Hermione had hastily dressed, Ron took her hand and they crept down the stairs and out the back door together, Ron grabbing the hamper and rug as they left. Once they were a safe distance from the house, Hermione stopped with a questioning look on her face, causing Ron to turn.

"Ronald, I'm tired. Please tell me there's a good and legitimate reason for us to be up at this time?" she sounded exasperated, as Ron had expected.

"Trust me, 'Mione. There's a good reason." Ron whispered, placing a feather light kiss on her lips.

Then, tugging on her hand, he led her away down the slope until the sun had risen and the Burrow was no longer in sight. Ahead of them rose a huge tree, its roots so twisted they had become lost in each other, bonding and breaking until they had formed a shelter beneath the glossy green leaves above. Hermione, in awe, had stopped dead before it, a look of wonder crossing her face.

Ron chuckled and leaned in behind her until his lips touched the shell of her ear. "Is _this_ a good and legitimate enough reason for you, 'Mione?"

Instead of retaliating, the only words Hermione managed were, "Can we go in?"

Without waiting for Ron to respond, she had relieved him of the blanket and hurried inside, manoeuvring herself between the twisting roots until she was safely inside, perched comfortably on the blanket, further softened by the dead leaves underneath. Ron soon followed, joining her and putting the basket aside.

"Why did you bring me here, Ron?" she asked, bemused.

"I thought it was about time we got away from all of them," he said, indicating in the direction of the Burrow with his head, "for a while. So we can talk. Properly."

Impressed, Hermione shuffled forward and sat cross-legged on the rug, mirroring the boy in front of her. She leaned in to leave a lingering kiss on his lips and then settled back, rummaging through the hamper for a corned beef sandwich – a difference in their tastes that proved undoubtedly helpful to Ron.

"So," she said through a mouthful of sandwich, "What did you want to talk about?"

"I thought we should just… I dunno… talk." he responded eloquently, "I know I want to ask you some stuff, and I don't really want anyone interrupting."

Hermione nodded, understanding. Every time the couple had tried to have a decent conversation over the recent weeks they had been cut short by Molly attempting to feed them, George popping in for a prank, or Harry and Ginny stumbling in to find that the room they thought was empty was, in fact, occupied. She thought today, just maybe, they could have a meaningful conversation for as long as they liked, without the rest of the Weasley family listening in.

"That's so sweet Ron. What did you want to ask me?" Hermione was all ears, her hand resting on one fist, leaning forward so her knees touched his.

"When…" he started shyly, before ploughing on, "did you first realise you loved me?"

Hermione had hoped this question would come up, and was more than willing to answer him. "Second year," she said, smiling as she remembered, "when Malfoy called me a Mudblood and you burped up slugs all afternoon. Somehow I know you would be the one to defend me – I guess I thought you assumed it was your job to pick fights with me, and no one else's."

"But I would never call you a Mudblood," Ron said indignantly, yet managing to shine with pride.

"I know you wouldn't, you silly tosser!" Hermione laughed, brushing some stray hair out of his eyes. Then she continued, "So, what about you?"

Ron sat thinking for a second before replying. "The first time I saw you. As pathetic as it sounds, when you told me in that prissy little voice," he said, cringing as Hermione's fist connected with his upper arm, "that I had dirt on my nose, I knew you were the one I wanted to boss me around for the rest of my life. You were beautiful, and I hated you at first for making me feel these things I'd never felt before. Was bloody awful there for a while." he chuckled.

She kissed him then, rising up on her knees so that she could weave her fingers through his hair as he tasted the corned beef on her tongue, and didn't even mind.

**There you go, Chapter 1! I hope you liked it, and if you have more question ideas for Ron and Hermione to ask each other, send me a review and let me know so I can write them. Hope you enjoyed the first instalment :) xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here we go, Chapter 2. It's the first and only question that sprung to mind, and I think it's really the only one I've got for the time being. Enjoy, and please review! First and foremost I need more questions to be asked and answered – ideas would be welcome :)**

Hermione, having finished kissing Ron, settled down to innocently straddle his lap, her head resting on his shoulder so she could watch him and listen to his steady breathing.

"Is it my turn for a question then?" she asked.

"Shoot," he responded with a laugh that she could feel as much as hear.

"What do you love most about me?" Hermione questioned timidly, glad that Ron could only see a small part of her face because of the blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Mmmm. That's a tough one." Ron said, furrowing his brow and casting his blue eyes to the floor.

For a minute Hermione just enjoyed the silence, listening to the breathing of them both in the small space. She traced patterns on Ron's chest with her finger tips through the thin cotton of his shirt, noticing the quickening of his heart rate beneath her hand with every sweep.

"Alright," he said, breaking her from her reverie, "things I love the most – one: your arse." Hermione felt his hands slip from their position at her sides to squeeze her bum for a moment before returning to their original position, making her breath hitch.

"Two. The way you hold your head up high no matter what anyone says, and then you'll cry about it later. You're strong enough not to show them they affect you, but you're also strong enough to come to me for help. It kind of makes me feel like you need me." Ron turned his head to plant a soft kiss on the crown of her head; tender and loving.

"Three. Your bloody brilliant brains. Hermione, you've got no idea just how true it is when people say you're the brightest witch of our age… you're barmy, if I'm honest, but I love knowing I'm with the smartest person I've ever known."

Hermione laughed softly under her breath, embarrassed but pleased. She had hoped he would mention her cleverness. Over the years she'd begun to realise that she was, in fact, fairly bright. She liked knowing things, she already knew that – showing up the annoying girls in her class simply by knowing more than they did was sometimes the only way she survived them.

"Four. And this is the last one, 'cause it was what I love the most, not just what I love." Ron continued, smiling above her, "I love how grumpy you are first thing in the morning."

An indignant Hermione leaned back long enough to pummel him in the chest before he grabbed her wrists and pinned them at her sides, blowing raspberries on her neck until she giggled and cried out for mercy. No longer looking to tickle her to death, he began to kiss Hermione's pulse point, eliciting a very different reaction from his girlfriend. Suddenly Ron pulled away, much to Hermione's disappointment.

Meeting her puppy eyes he cheekily said, "You haven't told me things you love the most about me."

Laughing and sitting back on Ron's lap, it was Hermione's turn to think carefully. As she did, Ron took the opportunity to examine her every beautiful feature, mimicking her actions earlier by tracing patterns on her hipbone, occasionally brushing her skin as his fingers swept beneath the hem of her shirt.

"I love how unbelievably angry you get when you're embarrassed or threatened." Hermione laughed, remembering the amount of rows she and Ron had engaged in before the war.

"I love how you think you're completely useless and unwanted by everyone. Even though I get so frustrated hearing you say it all the time," she said, "it shows me, and really everyone else too, that you're so humble. Plus it gives me the opportunity to show how much you mean to me, and that you're not completely useless." She smiled warmly at him and kissed him soundly, running her fingers through his tousled hair before pulling back to continue.

"I love that you still collect Chocolate Frog cards. Something so childish for someone that's grown into a man now," she said appreciatively, "but it's so endearing."

"And the last one's a bit vain of me," Hermione confessed with a slight blush, "But every girl has their dreams. I love how Quidditch has made you so strong and… stuff." At this point Hermione couldn't continue because of her shame; her cheeks brighter than his own hair and her face buried in his shirt front.

"Well," he said, puffing out his chest and grinning, "In that case, maybe I should bump up playing with my brothers from twice to four times a week."

She let out a small laugh as she felt his muscular arms wrap tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Looking up, she met his gaze before noticing his eyes drop to her lips. She leaned back teasingly before giving in and meeting his lips with her own, enthusiastically – but due to fear or habit, Hermione drew out of the kiss, smiling apologetically at a disappointed redhead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Alrightie, time for Chapter 3. A big thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my story so far! Ideas for questions Ron and Hermione can ask each other would be most welcomed in upcoming reviews! Special thanks to **_**Sandrinha **_**who made some great suggestions – I changed the Quidditch thing in the last chapter – you were right, of course – and in regards to the second query, don't worry, I will be addressing that in the chapters to come [it was part of my original plan].**

**Enjoy!**

"My turn for a question," Hermione said, "One I've wanted to ask for… a while now."

When she most to sit on the rug, no longer on his lap, Ron realised that this question, unlike the others, was meant in complete seriousness.

"What were you thinking when you left… that time?" she asked, the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes. Ron's heart immediately shrank in his chest, his breathing shallowed now.

"Oh Merlin, 'Mione, I'm s–"

"No," Hermione interrupted, "I don't want apologies – I forgave you a long time ago, Ron. I just want to know what was… going through your mind."

"Well, after I'd woken up, I heard you and Harry… figuring things out," Ron began, slowly, "And the Horcrux just started leaking poison in my head. You two didn't need me – your brains and Harry's bravery were enough. And that you didn't want me – that Harry was everything you'd ever need. And that was enough to keep me going until I'd left."

Here, Ron hesitated. His throat constricted as he saw the tears escape Hermione's eyes and he leant over to tenderly brush them away with the pads of his thumbs.

"Go on," she said, earnestly, "I need to know."

"And then, when I got to Shell Cottage, I told Bill as much as I could without breaking any promises, and went for a very, very long walk. I guess it gave me a chance to realise just how much I'd let you and Harry down. You especially, since I promised myself to be there to at least try and protect you. And the next day I started trying to find my way back. The rest, you already know."

Hermione had stopped crying – knowing what had been going through Ron's mind had given her some relief.

"What about you?" he asked, fixing her with his gaze, "What were you feeling, except hurt and angry?"

"I couldn't believe you'd really left. I knew it was the Horcrux that was making you so angry, but I didn't think you'd actually leave us."

It was Ron's turn to choke back brimming tears, his guilt returning as though he was at Shell Cottage at the table with Bill now, his head in his hand and images of a desperate Hermione tripping through his mind.

"I'm just glad you found your way back," she said, smiling at him and putting a hand to his cheek in comfort, "We wouldn't have made it without you."

He hugged her then, just held her and let himself be held. He was here now, and he knew he would never leave her like that again – vulnerable, unprotected and, most importantly, upset – even though he hoped that such a situation would never arise again. His lips met hers in a tender kiss, conveying his desperate message. Their kisses become more frantic and heated, Ron deepening the contact by tilting Hermione's head with his hands and outlining her bottom lip with his tongue.

Neither knew how exactly, but once again Hermione found herself in Ron's lap, her hands gripping his hair and pulling him closer. Ron's left hand slipped beneath her shirt, tentatively sliding up to rest just below the elastic of her bra. They'd never come this far before – a grieving and equally nosy family had made sure of that – besides, rebuilding Hogwarts hadn't given them much time to themselves – and Ron wasn't sure that Hermione was as desperate as he was, but the sounds he was eliciting from her told him she really was.

As she began to shift closer on his lap he inched his hand up a few inches further to cup her through her bra. The moan that escaped her was enough to excite Ron beyond belief, and he hadn't even done anything yet.

**Having never written something of this… nature before :P I don't know whether I should continue this chapter for a little bit. It'll be tasteful, if you would like to read it/think it's necessary. So please let me know – review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 :) Hope you enjoy it – we're starting off at the end of the last chapter since I've had a couple of reviews asking me to continue, and it seems appropriate in order to keep with the storyline, since, as **_**Sandrinha **_**pointed out, it is their first time alone together since the war. Also, a big thanks to **_**GingerPygmy99**_** for a fabulous question idea that will be coming up in this chapter! Keep the ideas and feedback coming in in your reviews, I love hearing your opinion and I'm so glad you guys are enjoying my writing :)**

Hermione's breathing was heavy now, and Ron was distinctly aware that his pants were growing more uncomfortable with every heated kiss. Hermione tore her lips from his in a futile attempt to catch her breath and he moved his lips to her neck, kissing his way along its length while his hands continued their ministrations beneath her shirt. Feeling Hermione bunch his shirt in her fists, he lifted his face and met her eyes, equally bright as his own. Without words, Hermione began to unbutton her shirt and Ron removed his hands from under its hem to discard his in turn. Her eyes travelled the length of his defined torso and she blushed, remembering her previous words – judging by Ron's grin it was clear he was thinking along similar lines, but the smile quickly faded when he looked her over. His eyes darkened and he appeared in awe of her and her beautiful body.

"Merlin," he whispered, touching her but not removing his eyes from hers, "You're so beautiful 'Mione."

"No I'm not," she whispered back and looking determinedly at the rug beneath them, "And I'm sorry."

"Yes, you are," he said, "And don't ever, _ever_ think otherwise." He put his hands on her hips and adjusted her in his lap so that she could clearly feel what she did to him, and she glanced up, surprised but evidently pleased.

"You… really think so." Hermione spoke more to herself than to Ron, as though confirming what he had shown her and trying to convince herself that it was true.

"I know so, Hermione," Ron said in desperation, "So can we please, _please_, get back to what we were doing?" He bucked his hips slightly to emphasise his point, and Hermione giggled before nodding.

Needing no further encouragement, he once again focused on her chest, now thankfully free of one layer of clothing. With every trembling breath it rose and fell and the view took Ron's breath away. He could not believe his girlfriend had always considered herself one of the most unattractive girls in their year. Even the attention of world-famous Vicky and pretty-boys like Cormac did nothing to boost her self-confidence. Ron promised himself at that moment to ensure he did everything he could to try and show her just how gorgeous she was, how precious and cute and unbelievably sexy she could be.

Gaining confidence, he moved one hand lower until it sat between their heated bodies, stroking her through the fabric of her jeans. Her eyes closed and her head fell onto his shoulder, her hands clenching on his shoulders before beginning to run over his torso, pleasuring him. But Ron was beginning to feel Hermione's growing discomfort, despite enjoying this turn of events. It was Ron knew from previous discussions, the first time she had been this intimate with anyone, and he was very conscious of the boundaries they were both crossing here.

Ron looked up, and saw that Hermione still had her eyes closed in pleasure. He could also see the thoughts and doubts running through her mind; so he stopped. He brought his hands to her face and tenderly tucked her hair behind her ears.

"'Mione, I can tell you're not completely… comfortable," he said.

"N-no, Ron, it's fine, really… I-" she started, before Ron cut her off.

"I know it's not totally fine, and that's ok. We've got heaps of time, and," he grinned, "this was great. And it'll only stay great if we're both comfortable with the way it's going."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, the relief clear in her eyes.

"'Course," Ron said, without doubt, "But, if you'll excuse me for a minute, I'm not… totally comfortable, if you get my drift."

He blushed and Hermione laughed, glad he understood her so well. When she nodded and slid back off his lap, reaching for her shirt and tossing him his, he stood up and ducked out between the roots. While he was gone, Hermione adjusted the rug, which had bunched a little during their activities. Suddenly, another question sprung to mind.

"Where do you think we'll be in five years?" Hermione burst out when Ron returned, making him look up in surprise.

"Well," Ron joked, "Not here, that's for sure. I reckon I'll be a little too tall to fit by then."

She laughed half-heartedly and gathered her knees to her chest in a gesture that was very vulnerable, particularly for a woman who was usually as confident as Hermione.

"Seriously though, Ron," she said.

Ron came over to where she was sitting and lowered himself carefully in front of her. The doubt he saw in her eyes made him determined to put her at ease, even if it meant telling her the embarrassing truth.

"In my mind, it looks like this. You will have finished your NEWTs and done bloody brilliantly, and decided what exactly what you want to do with your life career-wise. You would have been accepted immediately, of course. I'll be an Auror, with Harry, kicking some more arse. And you and me will be engaged, maybe i– "

"Engaged?" Hermione said, her voice high and her face red.

"Well… yeah. And hopefully in our own place, if we've got the money. I don't know about you, but I can't put up with that rowdy lot of mine for another five years."

Hermione didn't say a word. She just sat there with her knees to her chest, one hand clutching the opposite wrist. Ron quickly jumped to a couple of conclusions – Hermione hated his idea and would, as a result, break up with him immediately. He was filled with dread and he felt the sweat beginning to break out across his brow. The blood rushed to his cheeks and he looked down at the hands twisting in his lap.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, noticing all this, "I didn't mean to be quiet – it's just… that's, not what I was expecting."

"I'm sorry," he said, not looking up.

"No, and I didn't mean that either!" said Hermione, flustered, "I meant that I expected you to go all stuttery and, well, _Ron_ on me, not turn into some confident guy with this amazing and wonderful plan."

At this, Ron met her eye.

"You… you liked it?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, sincerely, "You know how much I love plans."

They both laughed, Ron's heart swelling with relief and Hermione's with joy. He leant across to hug her securely, the women who, if things went according to plan, he would propose to sometime in the next five years.

**Time for some more reviews! Let me know what you think, and send me some more wonderful question ideas and I'll do what I can! xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long, but never fear, I've made this chapter as long as possible for you guys. I also have another couple of question ideas up my sleeve so I'll get onto them ASAP. If we have any new readers with us, check out my other Romione fan-fic, "Harry Potter Missing Moments". Also, please REVIEW just to give me feedback but most importantly to send me your question ideas, because I will definitely use them! Thanks :) xxx**

"What would you do if you cheated on me?"

Surprisingly, Ron was the one to voice that particular question, one that Hermione herself was dying to ask, but unsure about how the redhead would react. She knew neither of them suspected the other of cheating, not expected it, but it was a good idea to get a feeling about what each would do.

"Well, I guess… it's one of those things you never really know until it happens," Hermione said, noticing Ron's nod in response before continuing, "But I think I'd tell you. I don't think I could stand you not knowing. I know it sounds weird."

Ron shuffled forward, talking softly in response, "No, I know what you mean. It's kind of like… I've gotta be honest with you too. If, for some bizarre reason I became deluded enough to cheat on you, that would be our only hope of mending things. By staying honest."

Hermione was more than pleased with Ron's response. Once again she was able to reflect on just how much her boyfriend had matured and grown, showing his commitment to her and this relationship. She trusted that Ron would never be unfaithful to her – she was as sure of that as she was that she herself would never betray him.

"I don't think you ever will though," she said, voicing her thoughts aloud, "but if you did, and you did tell me. I don't think I could forgive you. How would we be able to mend things if you betray my trust, or if I did the same to you?"

Ron furrowed his brow and paused. Hermione raised a good point – if he ever found out she had been with another man, someone like Vicky in particular, he would first hunt him down and cause him some serious pain, but he didn't know if he'd be able to look at Hermione again. It would be… different, between them. Foreign; alien. It would be heartbreaking.

"I don't think we could. But I'd have to tell you anyway – it's a respect thing," he said, before realising and continuing, "Which is ironic because if I'd cheated on you then you'd think all respect, self and otherwise, would have gone out the window."

Hermione smiled wryly at that. It was true – what was the point of respecting Ron by informing him of her disrespectful actions? It was ridiculous.

"So really, the whole notion is just completely stupid," she said, laughing.

"Yeah, it really is. So, what's your biggest worry about us? Is it me cheating on you?"

"No, definitely not. I guess it's that we'll just… grow apart. Or fight too much. We're young, and that usually means something will change between us eventually. Right?" Hermione's look was questioning and tinged with sorrow.

Ron paused to think – it was true that their friends went through boyfriends and girlfriends as quickly as he beat Hermione in Wizards Chess – hell, Ginny was the worst of the lot – but somehow it didn't feel as though Ron and Hermione were quite the same. They had had to mature pretty damn quickly over a short period of time, what being directly involved in the battle between Harry and Voldemort, and because of it, things just seemed a little more serious.

He tried to put it into words, saying "No. We're so different to regular teenagers that I don't think we really could just grow apart. Besides, who the hell else is ever going to put up with me? I'd be going barmy if I let you go."

As expected, it didn't exactly come out the way he'd planned. But Hermione seemed happy with the response, and some of the worry seeped out of her eyes only to be replaced with that cheeky glint that Ron knew all too well.

"Ok, I've got one. Where do you stand on the whole PDA front?" she laughed before continuing, "I mean, if past relationships are anything to go by, you seem pretty… enthusiastic about them." She raised one eyebrow and looked at him with her characteristic smirk.

"Merlin's beard, do we always have to bring that up?" Ron said, exasperated, "A bloke's not going to complain about getting action, no matter where the hell you are. But to clarify, _again_, I was always pretty bloody embarrassed when she decided to snog me to the moon and back in the middle of the bloomin' corridor. Especially that time Snape was walking past."

Ron shuddered for effect which made Hermione chuckle again. She liked to torture him about the performances he used to put on with Lavender, no longer angry or upset about their relationship, but she was glad to know he was a little humiliated about it all.

"Good," she said in response, "Because I have to say, I wasn't a fan either." On seeing his amused gaze she continued, "Obviously for _that_ reason, but also, I just think it's a bit… private, for other people to be seeing. I mean, of course, there's nothing wrong with handholding or hugging or a quick kiss, but an all-out snog? Talk about inappropriate."

"I agree. But don't get all Prefect Hermione on me, please," Ron begged before pulling her in for a quick kiss. "I mean, it's sexy when you get bossy, but talking about _not _kissing just pains me."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry guys, I don't think it's one of my best, but I tried :( Let me know.**

"My next questions kind of lead on from that," Hermione said. Ron noticed that she had very purposefully trained her gaze away from his face, determined to look anywhere but at him.

"Ok," Ron said warily, "What are they?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip tentatively and then covered her face in her hands, the blush creeping around them enough to rival that of any Weasley.

"I can't look at you and ask you this," she squealed, turning her body so that she faced away from Ron, inspecting the curling roots of their tree hideout.

Ron laughed, comfortable in the knowledge that this question was embarrassing for Hermione, which meant it was nothing he'd done wrong. Whenever Hermione had something to say to him, she'd sure as hell go ahead and say it. Which meant the questions were probably about sex, he thought gleefully. He then realised however, very aware that if it was humiliating for Hermione to ask, it would be equally humiliating for him to answer. He moved to sit behind her, stretching his long legs out either side so that she sat between them, and rested his chin on her shoulder. She leaned back into him voluntary, comfortably completing him.

"Go for it, 'Mione. Just ask me."

"Mmmmm," she mumbled, sounding particularly unsure as Ron leaned in even closer to hear here clearly, "Ok - I'll just say it really fast. D-did you do it with Lavender?"

Ron smirked to himself, knowing full well what Hermione was asking but deciding to have a little fun. Plastering a confused look on his face he said, "I'm sorry 'Mione, but I don't think I understand. Do what with Lavender?"

Hermione was not having any of that, and turned around to look at him, exclaiming, "You know _exactly _what I'm talking about, you smug prat! You just want to hear me say it."

Ron's amused look was enough to get her fired up and she continued, "Fine! I'll say it. Did you have sex with her? Did you shag her? Sleep with her? Is that what you want to hear?"

He laughed loudly and kissed her to stop her talking before admitting with a wink, "That is exactly what I wanted to hear."

He watched her in bemused silence before she exploded, "_Well?_ Answer the bloody question!"

The swear word that tripped out of her mouth so naturally turned him on no end, and he wanted to kiss her silly, but the thought of her getting any angrier put that idea immediately to rest and he decided to simply answer her instead. Time for plenty of kissing later, he assured himself.

"No, of course I didn't," he said, smoothing the hair back from her forehead, "How could I when I would only be thinking of you the whole time? It was bad enough I was even dating her without liking her in the first place, but sleeping with her without having feelings for her? That would have been awful. I couldn't do it – she did ask me a few times though. I just said I wasn't ready."

Hermione nodded, looking relieved and feeling a little proud that despite doing the wrong thing, he had enough moral fibre to not go too far. He had had enough respect for Lavender to at least say no, when most other male teenagers would have jumped at the opportunity for sex. She was also glad that when they did finally take that step, they would ultimately be taking it together – it was whaat she had always hoped would happen.

"You had another question?" Ron said, looking at her with another tell-tale smirk on his face.

"Uhhh… This one's even more embarrassing," she said, burying her face in her arms.

"You got through the last one no problem, didn't you?" Ron teased.

Without bothering to reply, Hermione took a deep breath and began, "Have you always thought about me when you… uhh, when you, do things to yourself?" The small part of Hermione's face that Ron could see turned a tomatoey red, and this time, he felt the same happen to him.

"Well, since this is slightly embarrassing for both of us I'm not even going to get you to clarify what you mean in this case," Ron said, while lifting one hand to scratch the back of his neck, "But yeah, it's always been you, from the first time my teenage hormones kicked in, to when I was dating Lavender – which is a little shameful – to now, obviously."

Hermione raised her head to smile at him, the blush still in her cheeks but quickly fading. She noticed though that Ron's face stayed red, and she anticipated what was coming. But instead of cutting him off before he could ask her, she thought she'd let him get a little taste of what she'd been feeling for the past few minutes.

"Umm, what about you, then?" he started, rubbing a hand across his face in a futile attempt to seem nonchalant, "Do you ever… do stuff and… think of me?"

Hermione's face once again become a beetroot red as she looked at him, but, she thought, since he had admitted it to her, it was all in.

"Yeah, all the time," she said, too late realising that the way she phrased her admission made her sound more like a randy teenager than Ron himself. She cast her eyes down and covered her face in her trembling hands, waiting for Ron to burst out in raucous laughter and make fun of her.

But instead, he was speechless, happy and incredibly turned on. He had an idea that had been what Hermione was doing when she used to silence her part of the tent late at night during their many months hunting Horcruxes, but he was never aware she was thinking of him. Even when they started dating it had seemed unlikely – it was always somewhat of a fantasy for him.

"That is… _unbelievably_ sexy," was all he could manage, the images of Hermione thinking of him in that way late at night tripping through his mind making him hot and bothered. He felt as though he could jump up and have a little dance of victory, but Ron knew that would only serve to either humiliate Hermione further or make her royally pissed off – and he wasn't prepared to deal with the latter, not at this spectacular moment.

"Really?" Hermione questioned, looking up, "Because, growing up, I always used to think it was weird and gross. I mean, I knew guys did it, but I never thought it was _natural _for girls. I even had to do research on it."

"You went to the _library_ to look up female… well, you know?" Ron asked, incredulous and somehow even more aroused.

"Well, not the Hogwarts library. I was far too embarrassed to show my face in there reading something like that – besides, I really didn't think there would be anything in there on that kind of subject. So I went to a muggle library during the summer. So much easier."

Ron was suddenly curious, "Muggles have books and stuff about sex?"

Hermione nodded in response, "Yeah, definitely. Exactly like the wizarding magazines, except the pictures don't move. And we have more… informative books as well." She gave him a pointed look and he had the decency to blush, thinking about the magazines he and Harry had stashed in a hidden corner of his room. Somehow he didn't think either of them had been browsing through their pages lately though. They were far too busy with endeavours a little closer to home.

"Ok, well Hermione, just to warn you, now I know you're randy, I'm going to be trying to feel you up a bloody lot more," Ron said mischievously.

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't," she retaliated, without a waver in her voice or the hint of a blush in her cheeks, before bursting into laughter, along with Ron.

"But seriously."


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for some lovely reviews over the past couple of days. This chapter is dedicated to **_**Ellie**_**, who not only gave me some heart-warming reviews, but also a new idea for a question which will be appearing in this chapter. As for your other idea regarding when they could come back to the tree **_**Ellie**_**, I'm going to keep that in mind in the future. Maybe there'll be a second Tree Talk?**

**Also a special thank you to **_**scottymccreeryfan19 **_**for your review – let me tell you, it put a big smile on my face! Also to **_**oscarpaz00: **_**thank you for your review! However, I'm not so sure I'd be able to pull off an M-rated story – I've always wanted to try writing one, so I'll see how I go – keep your eyes out :P**

**Enjoy :) xx**

"Let's move on to some less embarrassing questions, shall we?" said Hermione, smiling at him.

"Sounds like a brilliant plan," Ron said, as a question he'd always wondered about sprung to mind, "I've got something, but I don't know if you'll be all that keen to answer it."

"Well, that's really what this whole thing was about, wasn't it? Asking each other the questions we really want to know the answers to. It's made me feel like we're closer just from today."

Hermione's sincerity was touching, and Ron smiled warmly at her. He was pleased she liked his idea of getting some alone time, and he too felt as though they were learning some meaningful, and some silly, things about each other today. Some of his doubts and fears about Hermione's feelings and the relationship in general had been cleared up, and he knew that she thought similarly. He had never felt as lucky as he did in this moment – except maybe the time during the final battle that she had launched herself at him – and for the first time in his life he wanted to thank Quirrell for letting that blasted troll into Hogwarts on Halloween all those years ago.

"Alright then," said Ron, "I want to know what you think of Lavender. Except, you don't have to explain what the birds meant – I understood_ that_ message pretty clearly. And I want to know if you've ever felt anything for Harry. I know Vicky was always just a friend to you, and obviously you thought McClaggen was a right snob, but what about Harry?"

"Ok, I'll start with the Lavender thing, yeah?" responded Hermione, running a delicate hand through her hair, endeavouring to untangle some of the strands while she thought about what to say.

"Sure," said Ron, relieved she, seemingly, wasn't angry at him about asking either question.

"I never really liked Lavender to begin with. She always used to make fun of my hair and wanting to read books all the time and not being as close to the other girls as she was," Hermione said in a low voice, "And then she started taking a fancy to you. And I hated her even more because I was kind of jealous of her – I mean, she has lovely hair and well… bigger boobs than me, not to put too fine a point on it. And it looked like you liked her back. So then I did what I swore I would never do and got crazy jealous and showed my feelings for you to almost the entire school. It was awfully embarrassing."

Ron gently tugged on a strand of her flyaway hair before saying, "For one thing, you have much nicer hair than Lavender. Hers was all fake and it smelled kind of funny. Yours if soft and smells amazing and it's just… you. And who cares how big your boobs are? I like them more than Lavender's, no matter how big they are. And… it was nice to have you all crazy jealous – you got all fiery, which you know I think's sexy."

Blushing, Hermione said, "Thank you, Ron. Now do you want to know about Harry?"

Ron nodded eagerly, his heart beating a little faster in his chest. No matter what, Harry would always be his best mate, but he still felt a little jealous of his looks and his fame, especially when it came to Hermione. He wanted so desperately to know if she ever felt anything for The Chosen One.

"Well," she began, "I always thought I would have a thing for Harry. When we became friends, I thought I would begin to like him, but it never worked out that way. There was none of the spark with him that I always felt with you. He's always been a brother to me, and I was never unsure of myself around him. And with you, I always felt like I had to be one step ahead of myself constantly in case I screwed up and made a fool of myself in front of you. Obviously now I don't feel like that, because I feel more comfortable with you than with anyone else I've known, but it was always different with you than with Harry."

Ron beamed at her and said, "You have no idea how bloody happy that makes me. I always thought you had a thing for Harry."

Hermione smirked at him and responded, "Oh really Ron? I'd never noticed."

Ron poked his tongue out at her and her sarcasm, inwardly smiling to himself in victory. He felt guiltily relieved, but it was comforting to know that Harry had similarly, never had those kinds of feelings for Hermione. Harry had liked, or rather, loved, Ginny for a long time, and now he was happy, and Ron was fast getting used to the idea of the two of them together. Finally, he, Hermione and Harry had been able to secure something that was a darn sight closer to happiness than anything they'd experienced in their short lives. There were things that still needed to be mended; the Weasley family was still haunted by the death of Fred, and there were still Death Eaters at large, but it would seem that things were beginning to come to a close – loose ends were being tied, and life was returning slowly to what one could identify as normal.

Ron grabbed Hermione's hand, rubbing his thumb tenderly across her knuckles, thankful that they were both here, and together.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Ronald. And that's a permanent arrangement."

**Hope you liked it! Future chapters will be entirely dependent on me or you coming up with more questions/scenarios. Love! xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok people, this will be the final chapter of my story, but I'll insert more chapters if I can think of any more questions or if they're sent to me, because I realise the short conversations I've written in previous chapters would not have taken an entire day. So shoot me a review if you have feedback, good or bad, and particularly if you have question ideas for me, or else we will find ourselves at an impasse!**

Hermione was very aware that she and Ron had been together here for quite some time. She ducked outside to check the sky, and was surprised to find the sun was beginning to set, automatically worried that Molly would have the entire Weasley family out looking for them some hours ago.

"Ron," she called, "We should go. It's almost sunset."

Hermione heard a scuffle from inside, accompanied by a faint, "Bugger Merlin's saggy left –" before Ron evidently remembered being in the presence of a lady and shut his mouth.

Shortly, he was beside her, hamper neatly packed and the rug thrown over his arm. Hermione made to set off in the direction of the Burrow before Ron stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"'Mione," he started, "I had a really great time today. Thank you."

"So did I, Ron," responded Hermione, standing on tiptoe to place a kiss on his lips, "Do you think we can make this a regular thing? I like having some private time with you."

"Sounds like a bloody brilliant idea to me," Ron said with a smile before taking her hand.

The pair hurried up the hill, the hamper swinging wildly from Ron's left hand, until they reached the door leading into the Burrow's kitchen. It was a rare occasion when Hermione got to stay two nights in a row at the Weasley house, but tonight she was doing just that. As they burst into the kitchen, their breath coming in short gasps, they were surprised to find Molly seated calmly at the table, reading a heavy leather bound cookbook.

"Did you have a lovely day, dears?" she inquired, hurrying over to relieve Ron of the basket and bestowing a kiss on both her son and his girlfriend.

"We did, thank you, Mrs Weasley," Hermione began, "But we're so sorry we're late home. We should have left a note or something, we feel terr–"

"Oh, nonsense," Molly interrupted, "I had the clock. And I knew you'd be responsible enough to bring Ron home for dinner – you know how terribly grumpy he gets when he's hungry."

Ron and Hermione, laughing, turned to look at the family clock, where Arthur had added two extra hands, one for Hermione, and one for Harry. Ron and Hermione's hands had, by now, gone back to pointing at _'Home'_, and could only assume that they had previously been indicating that the two were '_Completely Fine'_.

Hermione glanced over at Molly before saying, "Thank you, Mrs Weasley. But I promise that next time, we'll leave a note."

Molly smiled warmly at her, embracing her in a motherly hug and saying, "Thank you, Hermione."

Somehow Hermione thought Molly was thanking her for more than just offering to write a note.

Turning back to them, Molly said, "Now dinner will be ready in an hour. So you two run along until then. And, just to warn you, Harry and Ginny are in her room." She shook her head with a peculiar look on her face, a mixture of happiness and disapproval, torn between supporting the match and the notion that her daughter was still, very young.

Deciding not to comment on that particular statement, Ron grabbed Hermione's hand again, leading her to the stairs. She stopped on the first landing so that Ron could wrap his arms around her from behind.

"What the plan now, hmm?" Hermione questioned, melting into his embrace.

"Well. We've got an hour. I'm thinking we sit on my window sill and watch the sun go down while we engage in some serious canoodling."

Hermione laughed and nodded her agreement, wondering when the boy that had once by gawky, shy and rude had suddenly become this romantic, gentle and loving man. Oh no, she wasn't complaining. Not one little bit.

**There you go. Sorry, I took some artistic license with the family clock, I know. But I needed some reason for Molly to be comfortable with them coming home so late, which she obviously wouldn't have been unless told otherwise. I also like to think Arthur did a little persuading in there too. Please review, let me know what you think and send me questions so I can add in some chapters before this one!**


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